You've Got Radium Eyes
by TexasWatermelon
Summary: "I know you're scared," Brittany said, still against her ear, "but I promise everything will be okay."


**Title: **(You've Got) Radium Eyes  
><strong>Author: <strong>texaswatermelon  
><strong>Fandom: <strong>Glee  
><strong>Pairing: <strong>Santana Lopez/Brittany Pierce  
><strong>Rating: <strong>NC-17  
><strong>Summary: <strong>"I know you're scared," Brittany said, still against her ear, "but I promise everything will be okay."  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>Glee is property of Ryan Murphy Television and 20th Century Fox. All characters, places, and recognizable names herein have been borrowed for the use of this fanfiction. Title from "Radium Eyes" by Count Zero. This story is a work of fiction and is in no way affiliated with the aforementioned groups. No infringement intended.**  
><strong>**Word Count: **2,223  
><strong>AN: **So I got the idea for this from this drawing (which is NSFW) http:/imageftw(dot)com/uploads/20110302/3Gee(dot)png by luckypressure on Tumblr. Shameless porn, really. This is my first Brittana fic ever, as I don't really write for cannon pairings as a rule, but my Brittana feelings cannot be contained lately. Thanks to Kallie for reading this over for me and helping me out with my Spanish. Spoilers for 3.02 but that should be it. All mistakes are my own.

* * *

><p>Santana kicked the door to her bedroom open and dropped her duffel bag to the floor with a sigh. Her muscles were screaming at her to crawl into bed, pull the covers over her head, and never emerge. Her brain was screaming the same thing, for an entirely different reason. Practice had been absolutely brutal—the worst in Santana's recent memory. She knew the reason, and so did everyone else on the Cheerios. Coach had screamed it at them through the megaphone over and over again as they ran suicide after suicide. By the time she finally let them crawl back to the locker room, every girl on the squad had looked like they were plotting ways to murder Santana.<p>

Every girl except the one who really mattered.

With another sigh, she grabbed the hem of her uniform and pulled it over her head, groaning as her body protested angrily at the movement. She dropped the shirt to the floor with a look of disgust and rolled her neck, cringing at the loud pops that echoed off the walls. Just as she was about to reach for the zipper on her skirt, she heard the floorboards behind her creak. She turned around and met a pair of crystalline eyes with her own. Brittany was leaning against the doorframe, her long, lithe body covered in a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt. Santana exhaled shakily and turned back around.

"Hey, Britt-Britt."

"Hi, San," came the soft reply.

Santana's eyes dropped closed at the sound and she suppressed a shudder. She wasn't sure if it was the tone or just the fact that it was Brittany's voice, but if she turned around and looked into those eyes again, she was going to break. She reached for the zipper on her skirt a second time, but it slipped from her grasp. She tried again, to no avail. It wasn't until the fifth or sixth time, when she felt a warm body against her back and a gentle hand covering her own, that she realized she was shaking. With Brittany's help, the zipper slid down easily and her skirt dropped to the floor soundlessly.

Brittany stayed close, her body just barely touching Santana's, but it was still too much. Brittany knew; she had to know. She knew things about Santana that even Santana herself didn't know, in the same way that Santana always understood what Brittany was saying even when no one else did. It was why they fit so perfectly together, _like marshmallows and popcorn_, Brittany always said. Salty and sweet and so unexpectedly perfect.

Her arms had wrapped around Santana's waist now and her head was resting on a tan shoulder.

"I'm really proud of you, Santana," she said, and this time Santana did shiver as the words ghosted past her ear.

Proud. It wasn't the first time Brittany had used that word in reference to her, but it was the first time that Santana really felt like she deserved it. Santana had done a lot of really shitty things in her life, but the shittiest thing she ever did was deny the fact that she loved Brittany more than anything in this world when she should have been shouting it from the fucking tops of mountains and broadcasting it on every TV station on the planet. The shittiest thing she ever did was make Brittany feel like she was a dirty little secret.

But not anymore.

Today during campaign speeches, in front of the entire school, Santana had finally declared her love for one Brittany S. Pierce. She hadn't meant to do it. In fact, her plans had been mostly to imply that if everyone in the school didn't vote for Brittany, she would personally ensure that shit went down. They all knew she had the power, too. Coach Sylvester was particularly happy with Brittany's run for class president because she thought it meant she could exert her influence over the student even more effectively if she won. Of course, Santana would make sure that never happened, but she didn't mind using the threat of Sue to boost Britt's votes if necessary. Instead of all that though, she'd ended up going into a painfully emotional speech of all the reasons Brittany was a perfect person who deserved to win more than anyone else, ending with a tearful "I love you" as she looked directly into Brittany's eyes. Everyone, including Britt, had been speechless. Sue Sylvester had been pissed. Santana had been terrified to the point of nausea. She had no idea what tomorrow would hold now that everyone knew she was a raging lesbian.

"I know you're scared," Brittany said, still against her ear, "but I promise everything will be okay."

"I probably lost you all of your votes," Santana muttered, fighting back a mixture of bile and tears. She felt a warm, soft press of lips to her neck and shuddered again.

"Do you think I care about that, San? I love you. And now the whole school knows you love me back. I don't care if we get kicked off the Cheerios, or slushied every day. I'll still be the happiest person alive because I'll be with you."

Santana couldn't hold it anymore. She felt a searing hot tear snake its way down her cheek and a sob choke in the back of her throat as Brittany turned her around to face her. She was smiling down at Santana with the purest expression of happiness on her face and Santana felt her heart explode with love in that moment.

"Well," Santana croaked out, clearing her throat before she continued, "as long as that's true, then it's all worth it."

Brittany's lips were on hers in an instant, soft and molding to hers perfectly just like every time before. This time was different, though, and they could both feel it. When they walked into school tomorrow they would be a real couple, no matter what. It was official now, finally.

Deft fingers unclasped the back of Santana's bra with little effort and then Brittany was guiding the straps down her arms and tossing it aside.

"Britt," she sighed in protest.

"Shh," Brittan whispered against her lips. "You had a hard day. Let me make you feel better."

Santana couldn't protest when Brittany's tongue caressed her own and her hands trailed up Santana's sides to massage her breasts lightly. Santana groaned softly and reached for the hem of Brittany's shirt. She needed to feel Brittany against her, skin to skin. They separated just long enough for Santana to pull the shirt off and toss it aside, and then Brittany was back, trailing hot kisses down Santana's neck. She sighed and tangled one hand in thick blonde locks while the other roamed the smooth expanse of skin that had been revealed to her—across rippling back muscles and over twitching abs. Her fingers dipped under the waistband of Brittany's shorts and dug tightly into bony hips when Brittany bit down on her shoulder particularly hard. Her breath was coming out in heavy pants, heating the air in the room to an unbearable degree. No one lit her on fire like Brittany did.

When Brittany's lips latched themselves onto one of her nipples, Santana felt her knees go weak and Brittany's arms locked tightly around her waist to keep her up. Brittany used her tongue to make broad strokes, first on one breast, then the other while Santana held onto her head for dear life.

"Britt," Santana moaned, and was rewarded with a sharp bite. "_Jodeme_… Britt, please baby, I need to feel you."

Brittany knew that when Santana started speaking Spanish she was ready to go. It usually took longer than this, but Santana had really needed this and as usual Brittany had known that. She pulled away from Santana's chest slowly, and despite her pleas Santana whimpered softly at the loss. Brittany smiled and stood up straight, hooking her thumbs in her own shorts and pulling them down swiftly, along with her underwear. She reached around and undid her bra as well while Santana discarded her own panties. When they were finished, Santana looked over Brittany's body slowly, reverently, as though she had never seen the girl before.

"_Tu eres tan hermosa_," she murmured, trailing her fingers across Brittany's cheek lightly enough to make her shiver.

"So are you, San," Brittany said, and without warning she reached out and picked Santana up as though she were nothing more than an empty box, carrying her over to the bed and laying her across it gently.

Their mouths met again like magnets as Brittany's body blanketed Santana. They both sighed into the kiss happily, exchanging warm breaths and body heat. Brittany's mouth began to roam again, trailing slow, wet kisses across Santana's collarbone, between the valley of her breasts, down her quivering stomach, and over her hipbones. Her blonde hair fell across Santana's stomach and thighs, tickling her where she was already the most sensitive and causing her to squirm and inch closer to the edge of the bed she was laying on horizontally. She reached down for something, any piece of Brittany that she could find purchase on and regain her sanity, but she could only grasp at loose tendrils of hair as Brittany glanced up at her through golden eyelashes and licked a long, broad swipe on the inside of her thigh. Santana fell back against the mattress with a harsh intake of breath. Her hand gripped the sheets beneath her with brutal force as every muscle in her body clenched in anticipation of what was about to come.

Suddenly, Brittany's tongue moved just a couple inches higher, right _there_, and Santana's whole body surged. Brittany clamped down on her hips to keep her still, but it was too late. She was already half hanging off the bed, her head dangling in mid air as her neck arched back at an almost painful angle. Every pass of Brittany's tongue drew another keening gasp from Santana's mouth. Her hand was still tangled up in the sheet, which had now been pulled off the bed with her and her legs were like vices around Brittany's head. Brittany didn't mind. She loved it when Santana lost herself like this, completely destroyed by passion. She loved the desperate sounds she made and the way her body lost all control. The way she was just completely herself without the need to put on a show.

Santana's voice called her back, her hand reaching out blindly again. Brittany looked up, but Santana had no more words. She crawled up the length of Santana's body and looked over the edge where Santana was staring up at her with glazed eyes. She didn't need to ask what Santana wanted. She could tell just by the tension in her body, the hitch in her breath when she trailed one hand down a sweaty abdomen and through slick folds. When her long, slender fingers pressed inside tight heat, she moaned and let her head drop to Santana's shoulder. Santana, for her part, had tangled her free hand into her own hair. As Brittany moved inside of her with long, deep strokes, she lifted her head to look down at her lover. Santana's face was suspended in an expression of ecstasy, mouth hung open and eyebrows scrunched as she met each thrust with her hips. Their bodies moved together as one, breasts pressed tightly against each other, skin slicked with sweat while they kept up a relentless rhythm. Brittany marveled at Santana's beauty in a way that she'd never really had the opportunity to before. This was her girlfriend writhing and gasping beneath her. Not just her best friend or her fuck buddy, but her actual girlfriend. For the first time in their lives, Santana was wholly and truly hers.

"You're mine now, San," Brittany murmured. "All mine. I love you so much."

As the words registered in Santana's head, she felt Brittany's thumb press against her clit, and then she was gone. Her whole body snapped back and her muscles strained, but all she felt was that pure, exquisite flash of white-hot pleasure. Slowly, slowly she came down and was vaguely aware that she was speaking, mumbling _Brittany, Brittany, Brittany_ over and over like some sort of prayer. Her eyes fluttered open and she was caught breathless by the sight of Brittany floating above her, blonde hair set alight by the afternoon sun, eyes sparkling like fresh snow. She was an angel, plain and simple, and Santana couldn't stop herself from reaching out to her, finally relinquishing her wrinkled sheet in favor of stroking the beads of sweat from Brittany's face.

"_Te amo_," she whispered, and felt tears pricking at her eyes despite herself. "_Te amo_."

Brittany's only reply was a blinding smile as she helped pull Santana up onto the bed properly and settled them against the pillows. Santana felt exhaustion in her bones, and although she wanted nothing more than to show Brittany just how much she loved her, she couldn't figure out how to move.

"Just rest, San. I'm not going anywhere," Brittany hummed. "Everything's going to be okay."

"Yeah," Santana said with a sleepy smile as she allowed herself to be wrapped up in Brittany's arms. "Yeah, it is."


End file.
